


The Stroke of a Quill

by DaronwyK



Series: What if... HP Drabbles & Short Stories [37]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Azkaban, Gen, POV First Person, Post-Deathly Hallows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 04:36:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14709200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaronwyK/pseuds/DaronwyK
Summary: Azkaban had been his home for the majority of his adult life. Suddenly he was a free man, and the possibilities are staggering.





	The Stroke of a Quill

o.o.O.o.o

 

If you had asked me yesterday, I wouldn't have believed it could happen, but a lot can change in a day. Freedom was something I hadn’t really thought about for a long time, not since the first night the Dementors had come for us, all those long years ago. Escaping hadn’t been freedom, just a relocation. No, none of us had been free…not truly. We’d simply been taken away from Azkaban to do the Dark Lord’s bidding. Servitude rather imprisonment.

 

The door of my cell had opened just before breakfast this morning and a sour-faced guard shoved a single sheet of parchment into my hands. I’m sure that the guard thought me addled, the way I’d stared uncomprehendingly at it. I was being pardoned, my sentence commuted to time served. There was no further explanation offered, and turning over the parchment revealed no additional information. Puzzled was the best description for what I was currently feeling.

 

I was escorted to a room near the bottom of the tower, where there was some clean clothing laid out for me. There was a basin of clean water, a mirror and some basic grooming supplies as well. Maybe this wasn’t just some cruel trick, maybe they really were letting him go.  

 

“You have 20 minutes, don’t dawdle,” the Auror bit out and left the room, the door slamming behind him.

 

Slowly, I stripped off my disgusting prison rags and simply cast them into a pile on the floor. The water in the basin was warm and I cleaned the worst of the grime off my face, before trying to untangle the rat’s nest that had once been my hair. With a sigh, I gathered it back into a hair tie and resigned myself to the fact that most would need to be cut off. There was nothing else I could do with it now.

 

The robes were clean, but the cheap material chaffed uncomfortably against my skin. The first thing I would do, once my release was complete, would be to go and buy some decent clothing. Surprisingly, the boots fit well and a quick glance in the mirror reassured me that I looked at least passably presentable to go out into public. I nearly jumped at the rough pounding on the door.

 

“Finished?”

 

“Yes, I’m done,” I answered, straightening a little. It was easier to appear confident in real clothing. Thread-bare rags were not really all that conducive to presenting a picture of poise and aristocratic indifference.

 

The door opened and the Auror roughly took my arm, leading me down another long corridor to an open room. My face closed down instantly, as I saw some familiar faces waiting. The new Minister was standing there and there were my confiscated effects laid out on a table. My eyes were drawn magnetically to one particular object; my wand. Instantaneously, my fingers began to ache and I wanted it with a burning passion that I’d nearly forgotten.

 

“Prisoner 2987645, you are hereby released from Azkaban and your sentence of life imprisonment commuted to time served, under the new Coercion and Duress Edict passed this 21st Day of March, 2010. Your personal effects are to be returned and you are now free to pursue your life as you see fit,” Kingsley said formally, no real warmth reached his eyes though. It was fairly clear that he was not pleased at having to release me.

 

“Thank you, Minister,” I said simply and stepped forward, picking up my wand first. The warmth flowed up my arm and settled low in my stomach. For the first time in years, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. “What about my brother?”

 

“Your brother was released yesterday and will likely be waiting for you at the dock,” the Minister said. “Once you’ve claimed your effects, Auror Stimpson will escort you down to the boat.”

 

I nodded and slipped on my family ring, and slipped the other small objects into my pocket. There was once thing I needed to know before I left, and I turned looking at the Minister over my shoulder. “Who’s responsible for our release? Who drafted the new law?”

 

“Hermione Granger,” Kinglsey said, his face hardening even more. “Auror Stimpson, please escort Mr. Lestrange down to the docks.” It was clear the conversation was finished.

 

In something of a daze, I let my self be led away from the prison that had been my home for a large portion of my life. Most of my adult years had been spent locked behind its forbidding black walls. Yesterday, I had been a prisoner and with the stroke a quill, today I was a free man. The stroke of a mudblood’s quill, to be completely precise. It was crazy to think about how much could change in the span of a single day. Seeing my brother waiting for me on the dock, I let my other concerns melt away. Today at least, I’d just enjoy my newfound freedom. Tomorrow, I could worry about how to repay the debt I now owed to a young, muggle-born witch.

 

~Fin


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